


If only it was that easy

by Tired_Baka



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Other, Sherlock Being Sherlock, mycroft needs more love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tired_Baka/pseuds/Tired_Baka
Summary: -Title/rating/warnings, everything really, will probably change later down the line-To say moving into 221c Baker Street changed your life would be an understatement. However, this new beginning doesn't mean you've escaped everything you left behind.-Reader's gender is unspecified-





	1. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I haven't wrote anything in a long time, let alone post something. I'm incredibly nervous about posting once again, so please bare with me. My writing style may be a bit inconsistent as I settle into it :)

With a heavy sigh of relief, I drop the last of my boxes onto the worn carpet, dust rising from below. I guess I’m now officially moved into my new flat. 221c Baker street. Flopping onto my nearby armchair, I glance around at the dilapidated walls, filling my mind with worry and uncertainty. Will I really be alright here? A quick knock on the door stops my mind wandering any further as I turn to see Mrs Hudson, holding a tray of steaming hot tea and some biscuits. 

“Thought you could do with a nice cup of tea” she coos, I quickly clear a space on the coffee table next to me and she carefully places the tray down there. I gladly accept her kind offer, feeling rather exhausted, the warmth of the mug against my dirty hands already making me feel a bit better about everything. After taking a good swig of the warm drink, I sink into my seat and speak.

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson. You’re a saint. And thank you again for letting me live here.”

“It’s no trouble at all, dear. I’m just glad I could help you out after all your mum’s done for me” She smiles fondly at the mention of my mother. Long before I was born, my mum lived in Baker street, just a few numbers down. In that time, the two became close, my mum helping Mrs Hudson with all sorts. It’s been a long time since mum left here but they always kept in touch. Mrs Hudson always told my mum that she’s always welcome in Baker Street, an invitation that extended to me too. Which is how I ended up here, a writer with big dreams but little money, looking for independance and a new start. Being a family friend and given the state of the small basement flat, Mrs Hudson kindly didn’t ask for much rent giving the location. “You must be exhausted, I am sorry that I couldn’t be more help”.

“Nonsense! You’ve done more than enough already, and the tea sure is helping”.

“I was hoping the boys upstairs would be home to help, but they’ve run off like always. I can’t keep up with that lifestyle,” she tuts. Above us, the front door opens and two voices can be heard in the hall, going upstairs. “Oh, that’ll be them now. I should go check up on them, would you like to come and meet them, dear?”

“I think I’ll get settled in a bit first, but I’ll make sure to introduce myself soon, thank you.” I assure, not quite feeling mentally or physically prepared to meet more new people, it’s all I seem to be doing recently since moving, which is to be expected really, but that won’t stop me from complaining.

“Okay, dear. Let me know if you need anything.” I thank her once again, maybe some more and we say our goodbyes as she walks up my stairs and out the door, a quiet thud as the door shuts behind her. Silence envelops the room as I return to my seat. It doesn’t take me long to finish my tea and munch on a biscuit or two before getting up and trying to organise my things in any sense of the matter.

Several hours pass before I once again slip back into my chair, thoroughly knackered. I’ve made a decent start, the flat looking a little more like a home with actual furniture, although not much. Most of my stuff is second hand from my family or charity shops, not much money around for nice new furniture, but it’ll come one day, along with papering the walls and other things to help bring this old place to life and make it a real home. Mrs Hudson was kind enough to have my stuff dropped off several days before I was going to arrive so I didn’t have to do so much work on the day I arrived, she insisted. Tired of unpacking and tidying, I decide to go greet my new neighbours, not before a hot shower though. Don’t want to be all dirty and make a bad first impression.

I wonder what they’re like, the boys Mrs Hudson speaks so fondly of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise consistent updates for this or any of my future works, but I do intend to try <3


	2. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson

Anxiously, I adjust my clothes once more, I didn't bother to wear something fancy, just something casual and clean, before making my way up the stairs to flat 221b. As I approach, I realise the door is wide open, perhaps they’re very open and friendly, I think to myself. I can hear movement inside so at least I know they’re definitely home and I won't be accused of trespassing. After a deep, but quiet, breath, my knuckles rap against the open door.

“Come in.” a voice calls from inside. I can’t help but enter head first, peeping around the doorway before actually entering the apartment. I spot a sandy haired man sat in one of the two chairs in front of the fireplace, a laptop resting on his knees. He looks up at me and flashes me a friendly smile before speaking again. “Are you here to see Sherlock?”

I imagine my confusion shows on my face as his expression changes, probably matching mine. “Um, maybe? Does he live here? I’m (F/N) (L/N), I just moved into 221c, thought I’d come introduce myself” I smile at the man, but I’m sure my awkwardness is being shown through it.

“Oh! Right, sorry, Mrs Hudson mentioned that,” he closes and gently throws the laptop onto the seat opposite him as he gets up. He approaches me, hand extended. “I’m John Watson”. I reciprocate his actions, taking his hand into a short firm handshake. His hand is warm as it envelops mine.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Oh, if you just come through here,” he trails off, turning to what I presume is the kitchen, based on the layout of my own apartment. I follow behind. “Sherlock, the new neighbour is here.”

The man that I guess is Sherlock is sat at a rather messy table, peering into a microscope, other lab equipment litters the woods surface. His eyes seemingly examine me for a moment from beneath his dark curly hair, before quickly returning to the microscope. John lets out a small sigh from next to me. I take a step forward, extending my hand.

“Hi, I’m-” I begin, only to be cut off immediately by the no longer silent man before me.

“Yes, I heard.” His voice is deep as he speaks curtly. I can’t help but take my previous step back, taken aback by his curt behaviour, stopping beside John once again. 

“Sherlock.” John warns sternly, causing the other man to glance up once more. His eyes roll, almost unnoticeably. He stands, almost intimidatingly tall, I realise only now that John is perhaps less than average in height. We briefly shake hands, he seems in a hurry to end our encounter.

“Sherlock Holmes.”

“(F/N) (L/N).” I smile politely at him, despite feeling a bit miffed at his blatant rudeness before. He looks to John, a look that seems to say “there, happy?” akin to a stroppy teenager, John doesn’t look too impressed though.

“Right, well, yes.” He coughs trying to clear the air a bit, then glances at his watch. “Oh, it’s getting a bit late, have you eaten? Perhaps we could grab some food and get acquainted more,” he suggests. “It’ll be our way of welcoming you, and apologising for his current and future behaviour”. Sherlock emits a exasperated sigh.

“If you want to flirt, don’t drag me into it, would you?” Both mine and John’s expression changes into one of shock and embarrassment.

“What? I’m not- I’m- Sherlock!” John fumbles with his words before scolding the other man. I can’t help but laugh slightly at the situation, you know that’s not what John was insinuating, even if the thought brings some warmth to your cheeks, he didn’t need to act so flustered.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine, I know what you meant. I’d be happy to have dinner with you,” I assure, gently patting him on the back. I stop and turn to the other person in the room. “You too Sherlock, I’d like it if we could get to know each other a bit, we are neighbours after all.” Sherlock rather cockily ‘hmph’s’ at that. John quickly speaks up, stopping Sherlock before any words can leave his mouth.

“Okay, great. How does Chinese sound? We could just eat here if you’re happy to.”

“Sure, that sounds great.”

As far as first impressions go, this could’ve been worse. Sherlock seems to be a difficult person, but I can already tell that John is nothing but a gentleman. I think my life here will be interesting with this pair above me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to make chapters longer in the future oof


	3. An Inspector calls

Saying these boys will make my life interesting was an understatement I soon learnt.

We talked a lot over dinner, mostly John and I, Sherlock simply took one of the food containers and sat hunched up on his chair, knees close to his chest, he didn’t say much for a long time.

I learnt about the two, as they did me, not that there’s much to tell. John was a doctor in the army, now a GP, whilst also assisting Sherlock. Sherlock was… unique, to put it simply. John tried to not go to much into what they do but Sherlock had other ideas. He was happy to correct John after he called him “a detective of sorts” and proceeded to tell me what a consulting detective is and what that means for him as a job, not failing to mention almost proudly that he was the only one in the world, John added that’s because he made it up and stuck to it. I wasn’t quite sure to what to make of it all other than thinking how incredible exciting their lives must be and how boringly ordinary I must appear to them.

When John began to ask about me, Sherlock was eager to step in again, not asking questions, but answering them, just by looking at me. ‘Deducing’ they called it. John told him to shut it and apologised to me but I waved him off. I wasn’t offended, simply fascinated. He got everything right, my age, my job and how I feel about it, even knowing that I was in a sort of writer’s block. Although, there was one thing he didn’t get completely right. My reason for moving here. He was spot on, typical story of wanting a new start in a new place in hopes to get my motivation back, but that isn’t my sole reason, just a small factor of it really, but I didn’t care to correct him, I’d rather not talk about it anyway. For all I know, maybe he did figure it out, but decided to not bring it up for many possible reasons. The main being it’s in the past.

I hope…

Which brings us to now, just about finished our meals as the front door goes. We hear Mrs Hudson answer and then a moment later there’s someone rushing up the stairs and in through the open door, a man. He has short silver hair and lightly tanned skin, lips pursed slightly. He’s wearing a loose fitting navy suit, blazer held closed by a single button and his shirts top button undone, plus a long trench coat on top. His appearance makes me believe he’s important, yet casual.

“Sherlock.” The man seems a little out of breath as he addresses my neighbour.

“How can we help?” John started, packing up food containers. The man’s eyes went to John before darting to me, widening in surprise, then his eyebrows knit in confusion. He shook his head and looked back at John.

“Got a case you boys might want to look into.” Ah, this is the consulting detective role in action it would seem, he must be a police officer of sorts.

“Where?” Is all Sherlock asks. As the man responds, John turns to me.

“Sorry, looks like we’ll be running off now.” He smiles apologetically.

“Oh, no worries, thank you for dinner. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too.” Before John can say anything else, Sherlock calls out to him, already wearing a coat and tying a blue scarf firmly around his neck. Just moments later, all three men are gone, leaving me standing in their apartment. I’m not bothered that they had to run off, a little relieved if anything, I can only handle so much socialisation in one go. Although, saying that, I really did enjoy my time here with them, I can’t help but smile a bit as I think about tonight's events. 

After taking the take out containers to their kitchen sink, I head back down to my place, making sure to close their door for them. It would be rude to hang around any longer in their place without them. Once back in my own apartment I decide to attempt to tidy some more before giving up and settle on relaxing before heading to bed. It’s been a long day, I’ll sleep well tonight, even in a new place.


	4. The Brother

I’m slowly settling in to my new life, I’ve lived here for almost two weeks now, haven’t actually left the place yet believe it or not. John and Mrs Hudson have been helping me with my shopping whilst I settle, I keep telling them it’s not necessary and that I’m capable or doing my own shopping but they always insist. Being here a little while means I’ve somewhat adjusted to Sherlock’s antics. I quite often find myself spending time with John and even sometimes Sherlock, much to everyone's surprise. He’s come to the conclusion that I’m a little bit smarter than the average idiots he has to talk to, after I noticed something in one of their many cases. I didn’t mean to, they simply had evidence laid out all over the place as they often do and I happened to notice a connection between two things, that’s all. However, according to Sherlock it disproved someone’s alibi and they quickly realised he was guilty of the crimes they were working with.

I tend to avoid their work if possible, it’s not that I’m not interested, I find it all very interesting. I just find that it can all be a bit overwhelming. Luckily, I’ve found that my time with the boys has helped my writing, some of their cases have similarities to the thrillers I write. I’ve been inspired to branch out in what I write too and even take notes from Sherlock’s deducing abilities when writing characters and situations. He actually surprised me the other day when he told he me read some of my published work. I’m not sure anything he said could really be regarded as a compliment, he is still Sherlock Holmes after all, but he did say it was ‘better than John’s blog nonsense’. 

Today, like most days, I find myself coexisting in John and Sherlock’s apartment. I find their company comforting, we don’t need to talk or do things together, just all peacefully exist together. Well, as peaceful as it can get when it’s Sherlock. They don’t seem to mind me being here at all, although part of that may be that I make a good cuppa.

I gently tap the small spoon on the edge of one of the mugs in front of me. Carefully, I take two of them and carry them to the boys in the main room, placing them in their usual spot. I receive murmurs of thanks as I head back to the kitchen to fetch my own drink.

Just at that moment, the front door opens and I hear someone enter. This isn’t anything new of course, these guys always have people coming and going, whether it’s Lestrade, I soon learnt his name, or clients. However, this time seems a bit different perhaps. Upon the guest entering, Sherlock sighs loudly, he quickly makes his way over to the kitchen and closes the doors, making quick eye contact with me. I’m not really sure what just happened, I’ve been allowed in the room with clients before, although I do tend to leave to give them some privacy. I just anxiously stand where I am, against the counter back by the fridge, not wanting to make a sound. I can hear them all talking, the guest is a man, I can tell from his voice, though I’m unable to fully make out their words from my position. What I do know, is that Sherlock doesn’t seem too fond of the guest, given his harsh tone. This shouldn’t surprise me really, Sherlocks always rude and doesn’t like many people, but this time seems different.

Their voices slowly get louder, they’re getting closer to the kitchen doors. Now I can hear the conversation completely as I watch them through the cloudy glass panes of the doors.

“What are you hiding?” The guest sternly asks.

“You always suspect me of something, don’t you?” That was Sherlock.

“Given your track record, of course I do, it’s only natural.” I can see the man reach for the door handle, I can’t help but freeze, hold my mug close to my chest and hope by some miracle that he won’t see me. Sherlock stops him.

“You don’t need to go in there.”

“You behaviour suggests I do.” And with that, the door opens, revealing a very tall man, dressed in a charcoal three piece suit, I can’t help but be intimidated yet also slightly attracted to the aura he’s giving off. His deep blue eyes peer at me, before quickly scanning the room, then landing back on me. “Who are you?” Sherlock ‘ughs’ loudly.

“They’re a client, I told you there was nothing to hide. I just wanted to save them from being in your presence.” He strops over to his chair and falls into it with a huff, John stands by his side.

“This isn’t a client.” The man wanders towards the others, and talks about me as if I’m not here.

“Why not, exactly?” John cuts in, seeming agitated. The man gives him a stern look.

“One look tells me that, I’m not an idiot.” Sherlock lets out an amused sound at that. “I’m smarter than you, you know that, Brother mine.”

“Brother?” The man turns back to me and I realise I had said that aloud.

“Unfortunately.” Sherlock responds, receiving a displeased look from his brother, who now turns towards me as I approach the kitchen doors.

“Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock is my younger brother.” I’m not really sure what to say to that, they seem to act quite similarly, but aside from that, I can’t see a huge resemblance, apart from perhaps their eyes. I let out a small ‘right’ in response. “Since Sherlock intends to be childish, care to explain who exactly you are?” I look over to John who just shrugs and takes his seat. I guess they’ve given up on the client story, I can just tell him the truth.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N), I’m their neighbour. Just recently moved in below.” I smile politely and extend my hand. He doesn’t take it.

“They don’t have a neighbour below.”

“Oh dear, brother. Falling behind on your surveillance are we?” Sherlock taunts. 

“Ah, I see. This is one of your childish attempts to best me.” 

“I’d say I succeeded. (Y/N) has been living here 13 days and you haven’t caught wind of it. Perhaps your age is catching up to you.”

“Of course they appeared on my radar, but I simply thought they were another of John’s attempts at a relationship.” Mycroft states. John scowls slightly. I look down to hide my amusement.

“You really are brothers.” I can’t help but smile. The Holmes brothers turn to me.

“What makes you say that?” Mycroft doesn’t look too pleased, Sherlock frowns in disgust.

“Well, I can tell you don’t always get along, but you’re bickering like all siblings do. I don’t know how I was surprised to find out that you were.” I chuckle slightly. Mycroft can’t help but feel slightly intrigued by the stranger in front of him, but that just puts him more on edge. He’ll get someone to check your background at once to assure his brother’s safety. “Oh, could I interest you in a cup of tea, Mycroft?” He eyes me almost suspiciously. I’m still intimidated by him, but after seeing he and Sherlock interact, I can’t help but already feel a little more at ease around him.

“No, thank you. I shan't be staying.” He certainly has manners, but that doesn’t mean he smiles. He turns back to address the others. “If one of you could stop by my office some time, I’ll hand over those files about the case I text you about.”

“Sure.” John begrudgingly assures. Sherlock says nothing, just simply stands and makes his way over to his violin.

“Right then. Good bye.” Mycroft nods slightly at me and leaves as Sherlock begins to play a tune, stopping only once he hears the front door close. John releases a sigh.

“Sorry about that.” John shakes his head.

“Oh, don’t worry. He seems like an alright chap.” Sherlock gives me a disgruntled look at that. I ponder for a second. “So, am I right in thinking that you had John and Mrs Hudson being insistent on helping with shopping to avoid your brothers surveillance picking up on me?” Both men look at me now, John almost looking guilty and Sherlock looking slightly impressed.

“Yes, worked rather well wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose it did. However, now he knows about me, I’m assuming I’m fine to leave now?”

“Oh, yes, of course. The fun is over now.” Sherlock simply shrugs.

“It wasn’t just a game though, Mycroft would’ve gotten in contact with you had he known about you. Try to make a deal.” John adds.

“A deal?”

“He pays people to keep an eye on Sherlock.”

“Yes, I was almost tempted to allow it to happen and split the money, but this seemed more fun.” Sherlock smirks to himself.

“That seems a bit extreme doesn’t it? Keeping an eye on your brother is one thing but actively hiring spies?”

“Yeah, he says he worries. Which, sure, Sherlock is good at causing that, but still.”

“Right… What exactly does he do to have that much time and money to waste?”

“He’s the British Government.” Sherlock states.

“I’m sorry? The British Government? Like, a member of Parliament?”

“He practically runs the country, everything you know of is just what they let you see. It’s always been like that.”

“This is real, right? Not just a theory or anything?” I ask, bewildered.

“I don’t do theories, only deductions which are absolute.” Sherlock says sternly.

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. You’ve proved yourself to me enough.” I shrug defeatedly, it all sounds crazy, but everything does with Sherlock, why would his brother be any different? “Right, well, now that's done, I’m heading out to do some proper food shopping now I’m able to, see you guys later.” I place my mug in the sink and take my leave, lazily waving behind me.


End file.
